


First Blood

by SaffronClover



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Death, Fighting, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaffronClover/pseuds/SaffronClover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story about eleven year old Ivy Hawke defending her siblings, and drawing her first blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Blood

            “You’re going to get in trouble!” A little boy with black hair hissed under his breath.

            “Not if you don’t shut up, Carver.” Came the whispered voice of his twin. The two were crouched down in the cellar, tensely waiting. After what seemed a lifetime Bethany took a peek out the entrance, and into the moonlit field; no one around could be seen.

            As if appearing from nowhere, a young, willowy girl dropped in next to her. Her blonde hair was pulled back and her green eyes alive with the thrill of being caught any moment.

            Bethany jumped back in surprise, while her brother gave out a squeal. “Shh!” The young woman hissed. Carver smacked a hand over his mouth, a flush crossing his face. He felt an elbow in his side from his twin, and saw her scornful gaze.

            “Ivy, stop scaring us!” Bethany said, the adrenaline settling down in her veins.

            “It’s not my fault you two couldn’t hear a dragon, if it swept over you.” She said. “Anyways, mom and dad are asleep.” The grin remained, and she reached down to pull both of her little siblings up. “You two ready?”

            Bethany’s eyes lit up with excitement, while Carver crossed his arms over his chest. “I still think we’ll get in too much trouble.”

            Ivy rolled her green eyes at her little brother. “Stop worrying. Bethany and I have done this a million times. Just keep your head and we will be fine.”

            Reluctantly Carver followed his sisters into the forest bordering their little farm. The trio had lived in fear of any sort of authority, mainly the Templars, because of their father being an apostate. Not too recently Bethany had discovered her own powers, which had sent their mother into a frenzy of worried knots. She had become more paranoid and restricted their time out into town, and seeing any of their friends was out of the question.

            Ivy balked at the idea of being cut off just because her little sister’s magical puberty. Had her parents known they were not in bed, they’d be livid. Ivy would get the whopping of a life, and most likely wouldn’t see the light of day for a lifetime.

            The two girls enjoyed sneaking out. Bethany liked practicing her magic away from the scrutinizing gaze of her mother, and Ivy enjoyed the freedom of climbing the trees. Someone had told her she was like a monkey, some weird creature that lived in trees far away from Ferelden. She took it as a compliment, of course.

            Ten gut wrenching moments went by for Carver before the girls stopped in a small clearing. The trees in the forest were so dense you could hardly see your hand in front of you, but in this clearing the stars twinkled magnificently, and the full moon cast a silver light on everything.

            Ivy turned to her siblings. “Okay, remember: No loud noises. We may be far away from the town, but who knows what may be out here.” Both Carver and Bethany nodded. “I’ll stay close, but you may not see me. Holler if you need something.” With that Ivy was off into the other side of the clearing. With a running start she jumped at a tree and her hands gripped a low hanging branch of a great oak. Her worn leather boots caught grip on the bark, and she began to haul herself up higher and higher.

She settled herself on a sturdy branch and sat down, straddling it with both her legs. From one pocket she produced a rock that came to an edge. She looked around as best she could, and found what she was looking for. With one hand she wretched a small, fresh branch free. It was no wider than Bethany’s wrist, and short enough to fit in Ivy’s palm. She began to shave the end, working it into a small tip.

            Meanwhile, down on the ground the twins watched their sister disappear into the canopy of the forest. The only thing they saw was the rustling of leaves, and then nothing. Soon Bethany was on the ground, her hands in the soft earth, pulling out dry grass and rocks.

Carver looked to her, mouth slightly agape. “So she just _leaves_ you here?”

Bethany was now throwing rocks over her shoulder, and making a small hole in the ground. “Not really. She’s always close enough to get to me if need be. Besides, I can hold my own.”

“But what if a Templar comes?” Carver said, suddenly aware of how alone they were.

Bethany rolled her eyes. “Carver, please. No stupid Templar is going to be out here looking for a mage. Now help me build a pit so I can set stuff on fire.”

That seemed to pique his interest, and for the moment both of them worked the ground with their hands to make a big enough hole. While Carver smoothed the dirt inside the hole, Bethany went back to the rocks she had thrown earlier and made a circle around the pit. She then gathered as much dry brush and leaves as she could and piled them into the hole.

Carver stood at the side of it, wringing his hands in anticipation. With as much complaining as his mother did, he was so excited his twin was a mage. He liked setting stuff on fire, and with Bethany he could do it so much easier.

Now they both stood to the side, Bethany’s hands out in front of her. She stuck the tip of her tongue out, and bit down in concentration. Her brows furrowed as her eyes concentrated on the dry leaves in front of her. Her concentration paid off when a small flame flickered in the middle of the pile, licking the dry foliage hungrily. Carver hurriedly looked around and began picking up small sticks and tossing them into the flame. As soon as those caught he and Bethany ran to the edge of the forest and picked up larger sticks. Soon the twins were sitting around a modest fire, Bethany wearing a proud face and Carver poking it with a long fallen branch.

"Hey Beth, look." He held the branch to her, presenting her with the burning end. She squinted her eyes and held a hand to it, giving off an icy spritz that quelled the fire. "Awesome." Carver said, eyes wide in amazement. 

Bethany giggled and wrapped her arms around her legs, looking into the fire she created. 

"I don't know why mother is so upset with you being a mage. I wish I were one." Carver said with a longing sigh.

Beth watched the fire lick the cool air. "Mother is just scared."

"Scared of what? Templars? Father knows how to avoid them." Carver said confidently.

Bethany hugged her legs tighter. It wasn't the Templars her mother worried about; it was the demons. Once a mage came into power is when the demons would try to take over. She had already run into one in the Fade. It had offered her the ability to live freely without having to hide, but she was so scared that she hardly spoke to it. It took her father a long time to console her after that nightmare, and even longer for her to find a restful nights sleep.

Carver, suddenly growing bored of the quiet, poked his sister with the cold stick, and she responded with an annoyed look. "Lets play pretend!"

"What do you want to play?" She said, rubbing where he poked her.

He took a moment to think, "How about the Templar and the Blood Mage? I'll be the Templar!"

Bethany rolled her eyes. "No."

"Oh come on, Beth!"

She shook her head. "No! You always get too rough and hurt me."

"I'll be gentle, I promise." He begged.

"Fine, but I get to be the Templar."

"You can't be a Templar, you're a mage!"

"That's why it's pretend, duh." His twin said, with a grin. Before Carver could get an objection in Bethany snatched the stick from his hand and began stabbing him with it. Together they ran around laughing and squealing, Carver pretending to shoot off fireballs and Bethany jumping aside and slashing with her sword and guarding with her pretend shield.

Ivy watched carefully from her branch, a smile on her face as her hands continued to work the wood in her hand. She had it whittled down to a nice and sharp point at the end. Even though it was a fresh and wet stick, it was sharp enough to hurt if she jabbed it hard enough. Putting the stone and stick back in her pocket she continued to watch her siblings frolic.

Bethany continued to slash at her little brother, but he brought a hand up and held tightly, as if he were choking her from a far. She dropped her stick and put her hands around her neck playfully. "Hah ha!" Silly Templar, I shall crush you!"

The snapping of a twig could be heard behind him, and Bethany's eyes went wide. Her hands fell to her side and she took a step back.

Carver gave his sister a look and glanced behind. There stood a giant figure, with gleaming silver armor reflecting the silver moon perfectly. He was carrying a sword in one hand, and a shield with Sunburst in the other, signaling his status as a Templar.

"What's this? Some runaway apostate kids?" The man said. He looked through his narrow visor at the two kids petrified in fear. "Looks like that tip has paid off. Why don't you kids come with me?"

He stepped forward, but Carver stood defiantly in front of his sister. "Don't touch her! She hasn't hurt anyone!"

            The Templar took another step forward and sheathed his sword. "I'm not going to hurt her. I'm just going to take her to a place where she can't hurt anyone in the future."

Carver picked up the stick on the ground and held it out in front of him. This made the Templar laugh, and shake his helmed head. "Don't make this hard on you, boy."

Without warning Carver ran forward and hit the Templar square on the chest. The stick snapped in two, the blow hardly even registering with him. A gauntlet hand came up and smacked Carver clear across the face, sending him spiraling down to the ground, disoriented. Bethany screamed and covered her mouth, eyes wide in horror at her brother trying to compose himself.

"I won't say it again, come with me or-" He was cut off by someone jumping onto his back. It was Ivy, and she had her arms and legs locked around him, holding tight.

"Carver, Bethany, run!" She screamed.

Bethany grabbed her brother's hand and pulled him up, and nearly dragged him to the opposite side of the clearing and toward home.

The Templar thrashed and scraped at the girl on his back, but she held on tightly. Her arms were closed tight on his windpipe, closing off his air. Thinking quickly he backed up and slammed her into the truck of a tree. Ivy felt the wind being knocked out of her and lost her grip, falling to the ground. She sat, disoriented, acting like a fish gasping for water.

The Templar was on his hands and knees taking deep breaths and coughing. He gained his composure before Ivy could and scrambled on top of her straddling her midsection and pinning her down. She slapped at him trying to push him off, and he cursed at her. "In the name of The Maker, stop!"

He managed to grab her wrist with one hand, but the other arm flailed wildly. She managed to get a hand on the bottom of his helm, and pulled up. Luckily it was not strapped in place, and flew to the side making hardly a sound as it landed among the tree litter.

            She saw not the face of a man, but a boy not much older than she. His hair was a series of brown curls draped down to his ears, and big brown eyes. Taking her surprise to his benefit he snatched her wrist and gained control of her. Not one to be over taken Ivy spat in his face, and at his recoil bashed her forehead into his nose, making it crunch and drip with blood. She was never privy to a fair fight.

The young Templar gave a howl in pain and let go of one of her wrists, bringing his gauntleted hand up to his nose. Taking this chance she reached into her pocket and found the sharp stick. With a grunt of effort she send it into the side of his neck, and out the other side. The Templar's eyes went wide as he put his hand on his neck, willing the blood back in. Gore spilled everywhere, and Ivy took the chance to push him off and onto the ground next to her.

Scrambling backward in the dirt Ivy tried processing what had just happened. She looked at her hands and noticed his lifeblood all over. She gave out a scream and tried wiping it off as quickly as she could, but they only seemed to get dirtier.

Ivy got to her feet and ran as quickly as she could back into the forest. Her lungs burned and her chest hurt from the impact with the tree, but she kept running not daring to look back. Soon she reached the farm clearing, and saw the candlelight in their house.

Ivy busted through the front door to see both her parents in their nightgowns, Carver and Bethany being hugged by them. Bethany was red faced, and seemed to not come to harm. However Carver's lip was split, and blood was running down his chin.

When Leandra saw Ivy, she let out a gasp. "Maker Ivy!"

Malcolm grasped his daughter by the shoulders and looked her over. "It doesn't seem to be her blood."

Her father gave a sigh of relief, but Leandra pulled her arm and slapped her clear across the face." What on Thedas were you doing running out in the middle of the night with the twins! What were you thinking?!" Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she shook Ivy as to shake come common sense into her.

Malcolm twisted Leandra off of their oldest daughter, "Go tend to the twins." He said calmly. Turning his attention to Ivy, he narrowed his eyes on her. "Are you hurt?"

Ivy put a hand to her still stinging cheek, and shook her head. Still in shock she just stared into her father's brown eyes.

"We need to get you cleaned up." He said hurridly, and retreated into Ivy's bedroom.

There she stood alone. In the other room she could hear her brother, sister and mother all crying together while her father rummaged through her things. Looking off to the side she saw the old dirty mirror that always stood there. She was splattered from head to navel with the Templar's blood. Without thinking she ripped off the shirt and pants, throwing them into the dying fire in the kitchen. She sat against the wall, knees drawn up and wide eyed while the fight played in her head over and over. She could see his brown curls sticking to his sweat-laden forehead, and feel the stick penetrating his neck with ease. She could see him bleeding out on the ground next to her, eyes pleading with her to stop the blood.

Next thing she knew she was wrapped in a blanket and was being carried out of the house, still in the dead of night, toward the creek that ran by their farm. Malcolm placed her on the soft sand and dipped a cloth in the water. He began to quietly clean the blood from her face. When that was done he quietly began to clean her arms and chest. The task was done in complete silence, save for the trickling of water and the crickets in the stream.

Ivy thought about the boy, about the mistake she made of taking her brother and sister out. How scared they were, of Carver getting hit, and putting all of them in danger. It all finally began to sink in, and she couldn’t stop the tears. She cupped her face in her hands, and her back heaved in sobs.

All her father could do was wrap the blanket tighter around her, and pull her onto his lap. He held her close, kissing the top of her head and rocked her silently. This was what it meant to be an apostate, the struggle he and Leandra knew well. His children learned an important lesson that night, one they would not soon forget.


End file.
